June 6 to 7—Take a Wok and Corpus Christi in Toledo

Dear Family and Friends:

Wednesday, June 6, we took a walk to the floofy NW of Madrid once again, Dani in the lead as our tour guide. She enjoyed taking ironic photos of the people in Plaza Espana who lounged on the lawn in front of the “don’t be on the lawn” sign as the Policia stood by undaunted by their flaunting of anarchy. We giggled at the "Take a Wok" Chinese take-out restaurant and continued to do as directed. The bright sun has been holding fast since that first week of rain that we experienced, and unfortunately, the afternoons’ brilliance and more-humid days have started to hit Martha with migraines despite her sunglasses, which are now leaving a distinct tan line across the bridge of her nose. Some water and a pill later, Martha was feeling better and the photography commenced among the 17 sculptures found in the Salamanca Sculpture Garden, an open-air space complete with one sculpture by local infam-artist Joan Miro (photo above and right).

Our walk home was pleasantly shaded by interesting building reflections (such as to the left) and helpful trees that lined the pathway in the center of the street along Paseo del Prado. We stopped for a large Coca Cola Light and some digestives with chocolate centers, waved at the Cristobol Colon and Neptune (right) statues, enjoyed seeing the steps of the national library, and ended the day in Reina Sofia, finally finishing the diverse strangeness found on the second floor. Martha particularly enjoyed Miro’s Hombre con pipa; Dani’s favorite of the final rooms was Benjamin Palencia’s Toros (Tauromaquia). We slipped up to the fourth floor from there to get a peek at the ‘Modern’ art dating from the 80s to the early 21st century. Some of the exhibition contained well-defined color lines paralleling each other on canvas, proportionate sculpture structures, and photography of emotional dogs and studies of humanity. But a black and white painting called The Louvre, which had a wonderful perspective of a hallway from the famous gallery filled with artistic pieces cascading down to the left of the canvas, really took the prize of what we saw on the floor. We’ll fill in the painter’s name when we return next!

As we were kicked out of Reina at its 9 PM closing time, the sun was still brilliant in the sky, and Dani enjoyed taking photos of the end of the day overlooking Madrid. Back at home, we hit the sack early to do our best to get up before 11 AM to catch a bus to Toledo.

Thursday, June 7, we awoke to see the dawn crack its butt above the horizon. The sun was not yet past the skyline when we got up at 6:30 AM. Yes, Capt’n, Martha wrote that she got up at 6:30 AM of her own accord. Well, coffee may have helped her some …

Out the door by 7:20 AM, we walked South too far on our path to finding the Estacion del Sur (bus station in the South of Madrid) and spent about an hour wandering to find the location of the station, which was off our Lonely Planet map of Central Madrid. We made it just in time to catch the 8:30 AM bus to Toledo, however, and snoozed a bit along the way through the suburban towns, towering with apartment complexes and more in the making. The bus dropped off and picked up other passengers on the 64 km path to Toledo, a small but culturally-charged city just about one km (two-thirds of a mile) diameter from each side to the other of this ancient walled city that has been home to Roman, Visigoth, Jewish, Muslim, and finally Catholic populations.

Dani and Martha love this town, and each remember it in different ways from their past trips to Spain. This time, however, we had the opportunity to experience the streets outside of a structured group and in a festive atmosphere, where the balconies were adorned just for the one day with Spanish colors and old, worn banners representing different Hispanic countries or religious icons. By the time we entered the walls of the city from the bus station, it was about 10:20 AM, and we found a hundred or more people already staking out their seats in Plaza de Zocodover (the plaza's name is derived from ‘livestock market’ in Arabic), ready for the day’s Corpus Christi celebration—rumored to be the best outside of Rome. The smell of the city was particularly striking, as part of the festival’s preparation is to litter the streets with fragrant herbs, bringing a freshness and renewal to the air that goes along with the sentiment of renewal found in the body of Christ.

With still more than an hour until the parade was set to begin at noon, we wandered down towards the Catedral de Toledo, only to find that mass was commencing and that this was the location of the beginning of the procession. Leaving quietly in hopes of finding seats among the crowds back at the Plaza, we passed visitors and locals with chairs aligning the narrow streets of this city. The processional route was covered from the sun by beige cloth that hanged between the centuries-old brick buildings, lanterns and garlands of greenery dangling beneath, followed by more banners, flags, golden souvenirs in shop windows, smiling faces of Spaniards, and general gorgeousness adorning the bland tans of the brick walls.
This ‘procession of the Eucharist’ dates back to the early 15th century, and many of the adornments seen at the cathedral and hanging from the balconies are about as dated. Opposite the numbered seats along the heart of the procession in the square, we sat in the bright sunshine where the procession would pass by us on its way back into the heart of the streets. Within a couple of hours, Martha was happy to have lugged the big container of sunscreen along on this journey. The parade began with the presentation of guards on horses (complete with a team of limpiadores in neon yellow and green following behind to clean up as needed) and culminated with the procession of the Custodia del Arfe (Monstrance of Arfe). In between, a team of First Communion children were followed by bands and numerous men and women in various Spanish finery and traditional garb of the religious sects that run the region.

When the Monstance of Arfe finally arrives (see photo of it to the right below), shining brilliantly in its gold and silver, it stops before the Arco de la Sangre (Arch of Blood) on the East side of the plaza. The Archbishop of Toledo spoke about the meaning of the Body of Christ and forgiveness of sins afford to the baptized by the sacrifice of El Senor (Jesus Christ), calling all in attendance to celebrate the gift given by Him to us all. The crowd clapped often to show their thanks for what the Corpus Christi represents to Christians. Towards the end of the speech, the Archbishop touched on the recently newsworthy subject of the ETA band of terrorists in Spain, a topic that has been common on the news that we have seen here after the recent local elections held on May 26. The Archbishop reflected the sentiments of the politicos, that the needs of these people would not be met with their terror-inducing approaches, and called for us all to pray for them to see the error in their ways and to find the Light of God in their lives.

As the crowd broke up after the procession ended, we started walking the tight streets thronged with bodies and more bodies. To the North, we found that Alcazar, our first attempted tourist destination, was closed indefinitely for renovation and found a theme for the day. Martha’s one Spanish souvenir request was a cross in Toledo, and she was thrilled to find one in the local style that was made of silver instead of the gold that has tarnished for her in the past. Back towards the processional route, we lucked out on scoring a table for inexpensive two and a half euro salmon and tomato bocadillos and refreshing orange Fantas that really hit the spot. The days are getting warmer and more humid as summer approaches, and we need to make sure to keep hydrated.

After a bite to eat, we continued our long day’s trek through the streets along the outskirts of the city’s walls, passing the other side of the Catedral del Toledo to see the tremendously large tapestries hanging there and the end-point of the procession. We then looked for the house and museum of
El Greco, a Greek-born painter who is infamous for his work and pompous life in Spain and specifically in Toledo. We found that his home and the original structure of the museum were closed to renovation, but that we could still use our annual pass to get into the Victorio Macho Museum with his sketches and sculpture exhibition. There, a room was being used to house about 15 El Greco paintings, including an impressionable map of Toledo, one incredibly moving version of San Pedro (St. Peter) lamenting after the rooster’s third crow, and his unfinished work of Christ surrounded by six of the apostles on each side, each done as single portraits facing towards the Christ image in the center of the display (seen in the background of the photo in this article about the dedication of the temporary presentation). We also enjoyed the sculptures by Macho, who mastered some of the statues found in the Parque del Retiro. Dani commented that the marble model of Macho’s mother looked like she was about to stand up and walk out of the room.
Dani was getting thirsty, like really thirsty, and a bit cranky. But we still wandered the streets for a bit before heading up to the Iglesia de Santo Tome, where we paid one euro ninety cents each to lay our eyes once again on one of El Greco’s most famous and magnificent works: El Entierro del Conde de Orgaz (the Burial of Count Orgaz). (The photo to the right is a replica of the painting done in a traditional artistic style of Toledo; remember, you can click on any of the photos to get a larger view of them.) Truly beautiful, and a painting that has been in Martha’s mind since she first saw it a decade and a half ago.

Upon exiting the church, Dani’s thirst had about taken over enough for her to spend some euro on water, but … remembering that there was a potentially potable fountain in a park that we had passed earlier, she queried the guard at the church as to whether the water was worth the hike back down the steep cobbled streets. He responded that, yes, it would be fine, but might not taste the best. So we took our empty water bottles down the hill and filled them several times with the essence of life, thus making for a less cranky Dani.

Onward, we enjoyed the views from atop the city walls to be stunning overlooking the river and its bridges below; found the other annual-pass–worthy museum (Museo Sefardi) to be closed because of the festival; and talked ourselves out of paying to go into some more of the local churches, mosques, and Jewish temples (the church San Juan de los Reyes almost got Dani to go inside, but its outsides were also under rejuvenation and therefore the lighting that supposedly made the church so worthwhile to visit was compromised). We walked through the Puerta del Cambron to the outsides of the city walls to take photos of the picturesque views and see the Cristo de la Vega statue of Christ along the hillside.

We decided to walk back towards the square, first through the back streets of the town’s Jewish district, where the alleys were often too tight for cars to pass and some of the buildings were in disrepair. We happened upon another section of the parade route, where we found paintings depicting the procession scattered along this part of the route. Dani was particularly taken with the obvious holding to tradition of the dress found in the procession, as El Greco's 400-year old paintings contained images found in exact replica among what we had seen during the day. Along the route, we came upon another church that was highly adorned for the day: people had decorated the steps of the church with red carnations, beds of grass, bright red flowers that looked like birds of paradise, and flat-faced flowers of name unknown. Hangings above were urns for incense and flower baskets.

We dodged through the alley where the limpiadores were already sweeping away the dust of the day and landed back in Plaza de Zocodover, where we sat for a few minutes to determine our next move. We walked down through the Arco de la Sangre and found a statue of Cervantes keeping watch at the bottom. After photos, we wandered a bit before delaying our return home with a quick tour of the El Greco collection (and other old stuff) at the free Museo de Santa Cruz. We were thrilled to have added that stop to our day, and left only as the museum closed at 6 PM.

Back down the hill and onto our bus home at 7:30 PM, we both napped and were surprised when the bus arrived at 8:30 PM. Back up the hills towards home, we enjoyed putting our feet up, turning on the air conditioning in the apartment, and eating some budget-friendly ramen noodles with leftover veggies from an earlier lunchtime. Martha hit the hay while Dani stayed up late to enjoy writing to family and friends. In all, Dani’s pedometer clocked us roughly at about 12 miles of walking for the day!

In love and light,

Martha and Dani